In a small theater in a town I will not name, a local theater company did a performance of a one-man play. (Please note that this apology has nothing to do with my recent visit to Montana.)

The show went well. The audience was great – responsive and engaged. Afterward, in the lobby, a patron, trailed by someone who may have been his unfortunate wife, strode up to the actor with a smile and outstretched hand.

“Did you write the play?” he asked.

“No – ” said the actor, extending his own hand, starting to name the writer.

“CONGRATULATIONS on not writing it!” snarled the patron. Stunned, the actor pulled his hand back. The person who may have been the patron’s luckless sister gabbled something about how much they enjoyed it (?), and the strange pair left.

A theater staffer marveled at the “many layers of asshattery” displayed, and asked “what kind of creepy rage-filled weirdo does that?” They were to find out.

The next day, the business manager at the theater received patron email saying, “Well, that was a terrible show. I sure would feel better knowing that you guys donated the $40 I spent for tickets to a good cause,” then suggesting several causes. Baffled, the business manager passed the email around.

The actor was dismayed to think “that TWO people in that wonderful audience hated it so much.”

But another staffer said it had to be Mr. Phony Gladhand from the lobby. A fast websearch matched a photo to the name on the email. Yup, same snide sorehead. A person with a respectable occupation I’d be tempted to characterize as “toady to the rich” if I weren’t trying to be all fair.

So the theater company, like a nice, grown-up theater company, wrote a letter of apology:

Hi Mr. [name deleted]. As you can see, your email has made it through the chain to me. I’m sorry you had an unhappy experience at our theater. I understand you even accosted the performer after the show, which in my experience is unprecedented. I have refunded your money, and removed you from our email list.You can also contact our artistic director [name deleted] (who was the actor last night) directly, if you like – he’s [email address deleted].

Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like me to do.

[Haughty initial deleted]

But the writer of the apology was still bothered. Steamy. Conflicted.

I think Haughty Initial was uneasy because the apology was a hybrid of two different species of insincere apology.

One species is the insincere apology of commerce. It is good business practice to act as if “the customer is always right.” Someone apologizes to the dissatisfied customer, without regard to whether the customer is reasonable.

A business will state “We’re sorry our merchandise didn’t live up to your expectations” – whether the scarf had loose stitches, the customer got tired of the color, or it didn’t stand up to sustained gunfire.

The restaurant merely says, “We are terribly sorry our establishment did not meet with your approval.” This doesn’t say the customer was in the right. That’s why you leave out the part about the delay in service being caused by their attempts to set napkins on fire with the Crêpe Suzette.

But the other species involved here is the icy apology, the apology intended to sting. The apology that is ideally worded so clearly that the person apologized to realizes how Very Wrong they were. These can be very sarcastic.

Sometimes icy apologies are found in a coerced setting. As in most apologies received by school officials. “I’m sorry I questioned the wisdom of your youth curfew rules.” “I apologize for referring to your zero-tolerance policy as Fascistic buffoonery.”

Haughty Initial began to write a standard commercial apology, such as they’d write to a patron who had a damaged seat, was assigned the same seat as another patron, or into whose lap an over-enthusiastic performer accidentally somersaulted.

But it was impossible to resist the ‘Aha! We have discovered your identity! We know exactly how shamefully you have behaved!’ With its implication that ‘the only thing we don’t know is HOW YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF.’

This created a hybrid apology, which I think is the source of Haughty Initial’s unease. But there are so many temptations HI did resist. HI didn’t say “Some patrons might find [name of play deleted] a bit difficult to understand.” HI didn’t say “We pitied your companion – perhaps a hapless co-worker? – who seems unlikely to attend future live performances with you.” HI didn’t say “asshat,” “rude,” or “issues.”

Nor, as an attorney acquainted with the incident summarized it: “You crazy fuck, I’m sorry, here’s your money, go away.”